


Celebrity Boyfriend

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One Shot, Sappy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: He was dating now. He was dating the nicest, handsomest man. They were made for each other. It was amazing, but what was even more incredible was that someone like his date, someone as famous as his date would go out with someone like him.That day started out as a perfect date and ended…uh… It was a long story…





	Celebrity Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, fingers crossed this will be my last distraction before I get back to the WIPs I have...

He stood before a mirror, adjusting his tie and giving his reflection his best smile. It was time to go. His date was already downstairs and it wouldn’t do to keep him waiting.

He closed the door and made sure to lock his apartment before going downstairs. Once he couldn’t remember if he’d locked his door or not and spent an entire date fretting over it and then trying to explain to his date why he was so nervous. His date ended early that time.

But not this time.

This time he had a good plan – take a nice long walk along their favourite route, eat at their favourite place, go dancing and finally, _finally_ invite him over to spend a night together.

He’d prepared.

He blushed as he thought about just _how_ he’d prepared.

A-anyway, he was ready to give his date the best night of his life. A night to remember. A night that would explain better than any words could just how strong his feelings were.

He paused in front of a mirror on the bottom floor – yes, he still looked ready to go out – and stepped out.

His date grinned and held out his hand.

_I need to be more confident today. This is serious. We are serious. I want more than just hand-holding and awkward smiles this time._

He took the offered hand and kissed it.

A blush spread over his date’s face. It really suited him.

He straightened up and smiled. “Shall we?” he asked and offered his arm.

His date wrapped his arm around it and they walked off together.

It was a warm spring day. It was the kind of spring day people dreamed about all through a long cold winter. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, but it wasn’t warm enough yet for shorts or a T-shirt.

He watched the wind play with the folds of his date’s jacket and imagined him in a loose shirt and a pair of shorts. Maybe it would be a simple shirt with a silly slogan like… His imagination betrayed him then and he couldn’t think of a single slogan. It didn’t matter. A _shirt_ with a slogan. Or it could be a formal shirt buttoned all the way to the top except for the last button.

He realized that his mind had wandered off as usual and that, instead of flirting or asking his date how he felt, he was lost in his head. Again.

_I’m not intimidated. I’m on a date with… with a cute boy. Yes. Right._

“How was your day?” he asked and waited for the right words to get a real conversation going.

“Same as always,” his date said and smiled.

The wind was ruffling through his hair, pushing it into his eyes.

He stopped and leaned in close to brush his hair out of the way.

Seconds ticked away slowly as the whole world seemed to stop. He held his date’s – _no, call him boyfriend already!_ – face in his hands. They were close. _So close_.

The breeze calmed down and he let go, his shoulders dropping in defeat. It was terrifying to make that last leap and close the gap between them. So terrifying.

His date talked about a day full of errands, his voice betraying his embarrassment.

He was so angry with himself. Why make things more awkward? Why keep dragging them out? Why not have it all out in the open already?

There was the dinner and the dance, but suddenly he found that he didn’t want to delay any longer. Any day now they could be separated. His date was a busy man. Could he really go for several days without seeing him? It was time to tell his date – _no, boyfriend_ – what he need to know. The most important thing.

He stopped and turned to look into the man’s face. “I’m sorry. I know you’re really busy and it’s unfair of me to take up all your time like this.”

“What?” his date asked in surprise. “No, you’re not… You don’t… You shouldn’t… There’s nothing to apologize for. Really.”

He saw his date smile and his own face smiled in return.

“I like spending time with you,” his date said. “So you don’t need to apologize.”

“I like spending time with you too. I like…” He breathed in slowly. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He’d imagined a dinner, a glass of champagne and a long, beautiful speech. Not standing out here with the wind blowing his hair in his face. He brushed it away impatiently. “I love you,” he finally said.

“Oh.” It was a soft sound. Was it just surprise? Was it a happy “oh!” or a disappointed “oh”? He didn’t know.

“I know,” he rushed on, tripping over his words. “I know that we’ve barely been going out. I know that two months is no time at all and maybe you think – well, I _also_ think – that love is bigger than that. That two months isn’t enough to know and love is this big feeling of forever and… and well, well I just _know_. I knew from the first date.” He forced himself to stop talking and look into that open and honest face. He forced himself to wait with the friendliest expression he could make.

“Oh.” There was a faint blush now. “I’m really flattered. I…” he turned away. “I didn’t think…”

The words tumbled out of him like a waterfall again. “Ah! But why not? Someone like you… Someone as incredible as you –”

His date gave him a doubtful look. “Really? You think so?”

“Of course! And I understand that you’ll be super busy, too busy for a committed relationship, but I will wait. I’m perfectly happy waiting for when you have… have time for me.”

“Won’t _you_ be busy?” his date asked.

“Well, a bit, I suppose,” he conceded. “But that’s alright! You don’t need to worry about it. I’ll make time.” He smiled and took both of his date’s hands. “This is very important to me.”

“Th-thank you.”

 

He was flattered. He really was. To get such a heartfelt confession and so much more from someone who barely knew him! But he knew the feeling, even if he didn’t dare voice it himself.

_You’re always busy. You have a lot more than me going on in your life._

He, too, had fallen deep on their first date, but he’d resigned himself to being there, to being reliable.

“Just because you’re going out doesn’t mean you can assume he knows how you feel about him,” his friend had told him.

That wasn’t it, though. He wasn’t afraid of confessing, or of being rejected (he’d been bold enough to assume he wouldn’t be rejected). No, he was afraid of being a burden, of tying someone down with promises they hadn’t intended to make.

But now the promise was made of his date’s own free will it let him be open and frank.

“I feel the same,” he admitted as his date held both of his hands. “I didn’t realize you… I thought you were happy with me, but I didn’t think…” He gave a little smile and nod. “Let’s keep walking.”

Further along the path stood a stall with a little man who sold flowers.

He picked out the ones he thought suited his date best and paid the man for them. Then he turned and presented them. “I love you,” he said and watched a blush appear on his date’s face. “And I promise that if I need to wait for you, I will do so, no matter how long it takes.”

His date gave him a tender look.

They kept walking.

He thought then of something he’d been unable to ask for. A little favour. He wasn’t sure why his date hadn’t offered it himself, but now that they’d both confessed surely…

He took a deep breath. “Listen, I –”

“Sir! Sir!”

They turned to see the flower merchant shouting at them. “You forgot your wallet!”

He blushed and returned for it, his request temporarily forgotten.

 

The walk was perfect. What better way was there to spend an afternoon than with the love of your life?

But now he had a new thing to worry about. He wanted to ask for something and didn’t know how to do it. Or, rather, how to phrase his request.

They crossed the river and stopped on a picturesque bridge.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he began, “for a while now, to be honest, I –”

Something startled the duck swimming around below them and it flew up straight for his face.

“Look out!” his date called, pulling him out of the way.

One of them lost their footing and they both tumbled onto the path in an undignified heap.

He ended up on top. He leapt up to his feet right away and held his hands out. “Sorry, I… uh…”

His date rose to his feet, took in his dirty clothes and sighed. His own clothes were a mess too.

“Listen, I…” Here it was. His chance. “Let’s,” he swallowed, “go back to my place and I’ll clean your clothes there.” There. He said it. He stared at his date and waited for him to say no.

His date smiled. “Should I cancel our reservation?” he asked and turned bright red, as if he hadn’t realized right away what he’d said.

How bold! His own heart beat faster and he almost whispered, “Yes.”

His date took his hand and they turned around.

They were returning now, returning together and much earlier than he’d expected. He was prepared, wasn’t he?

But wait! There was still something he need to ask. Or say. Whichever.

He wondered how to bring it up, or if he should bring it up later. Would his date get the wrong idea if he brought it up now?

“There’s something…” he began. “I… uh…” He stopped walking and his date gave him a curious look. “I don’t know how to say it… um…”

There was that gentle smile on his date’s face again. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? No, no! It’s fine, I just…”

“Having second thoughts?” his date supplied.

“No! Not at all!” he protested and – oh the hell with it! “I’ve waited for this for a while! I wouldn’t have second thoughts about…” He turned deep red and stared down at his feet.

“I see…”

It was quiet after that. He shuffled awkwardly, wishing he could think of something – _anything_ – to say.

“Did you want to ask to stop by the store first?” his date suggested. He was still trying to work out what his question was. How sweet!

“I… uh…” God, it really was a day for embarrassing confessions! “I… already have everything we need. I…” he swallowed, “I prepared ahead of time.” He put his hand over his face.

That was most of the embarrassing parts over and done with. Now he just needed a way to phrase what he wanted to say next. Surely it couldn’t be worse than all that!

His throat was dry and he decided he’d rather say it in the safety and comfort of his apartment than out here. It could wait, right?

“I’ll um… say it later.”

“Alright,” his date agreed. “Shall we?”

They walked on arm in arm, dusty clothes temporarily forgotten.

It felt so surreal, walking together like this to his apartment as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He imagined them going to his apartment often (even living there for several days at a time). He imagined lazy mornings spent lying next to each other and sharing secrets, or warm afternoons spent deep in conversation in the kitchen.

This was really happening! He was really taking his date home!

His hands shook when he unlocked his door and then his date was in his living room, sitting on his sofa.

“Do you want something? A glass of water?” he offered.

His date was taking in his surrounding curiously.  “Hm? Yes, please.”

He made for the kitchen and paused in the doorway, throwing a look back over his shoulder.

There was a famous person in his living room!

 

He sat on the couch, waiting for his date to return and fidgeted nervously. He’d often imagined the day he’d be invited over to his date’s apartment and a few times he wondered what it was like inside.

It was – he looked around for the right words to describe his impression – normal. Very normal. This could’ve been anyone’s apartment.

There were shelves of books along one wall and magazines on the table, the kind of magazines that were usually on coffee tables in furniture stores. There were a few posters on the walls, but he didn’t have any time to study them because his host returned with two glasses of water.

“Here you go.”

He downed his water and got up to wash the glass without thinking.

“No, please, let me…” He took the glass out of his hand.

He didn’t argue: it suddenly dawned on him that here he was in his idol’s apartment at last and he knew exactly what he wanted to do next.

 

When they’d first met he wondered how he’d been so lucky to meet someone famous, and then they started to go out, and now the celebrity was in his apartment!

 _Forget the stupid glasses,_ he thought. _I need to seduce him._

Before his guest could say anything he picked the boy up and carried him in his arms, heading for the balcony. He lay his guest down on the bench there, brought him cushions and then slipped away to return with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

That had been part of the preparations too, of course.

They sat side by side among the roses that grew all around his balcony and drank red wine, and ate cheese and crackers.

It was better than eating at the most expensive restaurant.

He took his guest’s hand and traced the lines on it with his finger.

Was he doing it right? Was this too much? He shifted closer and whispered a poem and kissed the boy’s palm.

“Wh-what did you say?”

“It’s a Russian poem,” he admitted.

“Will you translate it for me?”

“Anything for you.” He slid even closer.

“Anything? I wanted to… um ask you something…”

He smiled wider. It was working!

 

His host was a hopeless romantic, just like all the interviews with him had suggested. But that didn’t explain why –

No. Focus. One thing at a time. He could do this. What did he want to ask for again? It was hard to think with their faces so close. Right, he knew what he wanted, he just needed to figure out the right way to ask for it.

 _I want to kiss your –_ No, that just sounded wrong and really weird and…

“I want to see your…” he hesitated, trying to think of the right word, “um…” What would he call it?

His host was smiling and it made it impossible to continue.

After a few seconds of flailing around his host gave a quiet chuckle and picked him up again to carry him like a brand new bride to…

He blushed and bit his lip in frustration.

…his bedroom.

Of course he’d assume that’s what he was asking for!

Instead of lying him down on the bed, his host placed him on his feet. “I completely forgot. Let’s get you out of these dirty clothes.”

He stood still as his host dropped to his knees and undid his belt. His own heart was beating fast, struggling to keep up. The pants dropped to the floor and his date’s hands slid up his bare legs.

“You must be complimented all the time,” his date whispered. “You must get love letters by the dozen.”

He blushed at this odd compliment. “N-not really…”

“I don’t believe that.”

His host helped him out of his jacket and lay him down on the bed. He was only in a shirt, underwear and socks now. And a tie.

His host crawled onto the bed next to him, undid the tie next and tossed it aside. He kissed the palm of his right hand. He closed his eyes, letting the host do what he wanted, enjoying the feel of his lips against the skin of his hand.

 

People like his date needed to be worshipped. He took it slowly, carefully, undressing the boy with care until he got to the last part.

His fingers traced out the boy’s glasses, making him open his eyes.

“May I?” he asked.

His date nodded.

He pulled the glasses off and folded them to put them away onto his bedside table. He had a sudden image then of these glasses always being there for years and years until they both grew old.

His date lay naked now. He ran his fingers over the boy’s skin, making him gasp and enjoying each sound. He settled for the place he’d always wanted to be – between his thighs and put his hand on each as he leaned in close and opened his mouth.

 

When he was younger he often heard about famous people having lots of lovers. He wasn’t sure why they did this. Did a lot of people come after them? Did famous people have a need to be with more people all the time? Who knew? But even if his host switched lovers as often as all those people did and this was all for a short time, he didn’t regret this for an instant.

His host pulled away and sat up. He opened his eyes and watched him unbutton his shirt and undo his pants hastily.

Once he saw his host discard all his clothes, he rose from the pillows and reached out for his host’s chest to slide his hand over it. He could feel his heart beating fast in his chest. He took his host’s hand and placed it over his own chest and then looked into his eyes.

“I… uh… I have… in the… in the drawer,” he stammered out.

No, he wasn’t that kind of famous person. It looked like this was his first time.

He smiled and leaned forward to drop a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll get it,” he whispered and got a grateful nod in return.

He hesitated before opening the drawer, suddenly wondering if he’d find something else in there, something he wasn’t ready for. He pulled it open, bracing himself, but there was just an unopened box and a brand new bottle inside.

He raised his eyes and saw his host lying on his stomach, the back of his body on full display.

He blushed, realizing he was staring instead of _doing_ , opened the box, pulled out two packets, grabbed the bottle and rushed back to the bed.

As he prepared himself and his lover it occurred to him that he will be moaning his lover’s name shortly and that his lover will be doing the same with his name. For some reason this made him blush more than anything else, more than thinking about where his fingers were at the moment, or where the rest of him would be soon.

Could he do it? Could he moan his idol’s name? He’d been too embarrassed to say it in the two months they were going out and stuck to using “you” and, for whatever reason, his idol had done the same.

 _Oh god! He’s going to be moaning_ my _name in a few minutes!_

He swallowed nervously and felt his whole body shake. He _needed_ his idol to moan his name.

Maybe if he hadn’t realized this, their time together would’ve gone differently, maybe he would’ve hesitated for longer and then asked his idol to be on top first…

 

He gasped, knees sliding against his bedsheets, hands gripping the pillow. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

All the sweet innocence had gone out the window and his date was suddenly demonstrating all the sexual appeal he usually showed off on the ice.

He was all hands now, sliding his fingers over his body, as if trying to find something.

_What is he looking for? What…_

The fingers were on his chest now, rubbing against his nipples.

 _He’s… He’s looking for…_ He gasped, his whole body reacting to this touch. _This is what being in bed with Eros feels like._

He pulled away, realizing that his host couldn’t breathe and dropped onto his back as the man gasped for air beside him.

“Sorry… I…” He was out of breath himself, but that didn’t matter.

What mattered was that he still hadn’t heard his name, no matter what he did. _To be fair, I haven’t said his name._ He turned to face his date just as the man raised his head and their eyes met.

“I love you,” they whispered at the same time.

They really were very alike. He reached out with his hands and took his date’s face with a smile.

Now. He had to ask for it now. He licked his dried lips and promised to say the words no matter what the interruption.

His phone rang.

He groaned and his head dropped back on the pillow.

“Should I…?” his date offered.

“Just ignore it. It’s not important,” he said, raising his head again. “I… uh…” He brushed his hand through his hair. He was all sweaty, but it wasn’t as unpleasant as he thought it would be. “I was thinking…” he tried to grin winningly, “we could make this more exciting…”

His date gave him a look of surprise as if he’d just suggested something impossible. “W-we can?”

He held his date by the shoulders now, rubbing them gently with his thumbs. “Yes. It’s…” he looked away. _Come on! Say it already!_

The annoying phone stopped ringing and in the silence that filled the room he could hear an ambulance siren from somewhere out in the road.

“I thought,” he swallowed, “it would be more fun if one of us was wearing a medal. A gold medal.” There he said it. Now he sounded like some sort of creep or pervert. He squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to see the expression on his date’s face.

 _Wear it?_ He thought. _I don’t just want one of us to wear it! I want to kiss it! After seeing you kiss it so many times on TV, I couldn’t help wishing…_

His date giggled. “I was thinking the same thing!” he admitted.

There was a long pause, but neither of them moved. He opened his eyes and stared up at the innocent smile on his date’s face.

 _You can go get it now_ , he thought and pulled his hands away, but his date didn’t look like he was going anywhere.

Instead he tilted his head to the side. “Should we go to your apartment now?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Well the medal isn’t here, is it?” his host said with another giggle.

_It’s not? Oh… Oh! You must keep all your medals and awards in Russia! Why didn’t I think of that before? How stupid of me!_

His host drew a circle on his chest with his finger, giving him a coy look. “We can stay here, if you want.”

Yeah, it probably made no sense to go when they were so comfortable here and…

His host leaned down and whispered, “I can’t wait to see your whole collection” into his ear.

“M-my collection?”

“Don’t you call it that?” his host asked, sitting up with a frown. “All the awards, and medals, and things.”

 _We don’t_ all _win a million awards like you. I know I don’t._ “Well…” he mumbled, not knowing what to say. What did people say to others who were a million times more talented than they were?

“There’s no need to be so modest,” his host went on and rubbed his nose against his cheek.

“I suppose not…”

“What should we do next?” his host whispered into his ear.

_Good question._

 

The boy was so sweet! How like him to go from seductive to gentle and caring at the drop of a hat! He brushed his hair out of his face and smiled down at those beautiful brown eyes.

“What should we do next?” he’d whispered, knowing he had his own answer ready.

He tapped his fingers on the boy’s skin with a grin. “You know,” he admitted, deciding it was time to lay all his secrets out at once, “the first time I saw you I was only sixteen, but I think I fell in love with you then.”

“Really? Sixteen?” the boy asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Yeah…” He remembered watching his first figure skating competition on TV and picking out who to root for based on who was the cutest. He still had the recording somewhere and there were the bad quality YouTube videos, of course. One day he would find the courage to admit all that, but that day he settled for a single sigh.

 

He furrowed his brows thoughtfully. Sixteen? That meant that his date had somehow seen him when he was twelve, but how was that possible? He lived in Japan until he turned seventeen and barely ever left the country.

That was odd, but odder still was that he, himself, saw his date for the first time not long after he’d turned sixteen. That is, when he himself was twelve.

What a coincidence! No, it must have been Fate!

He smiled at the dreamy sigh that escaped his date’s lips. He reached out with both hands and pulled them through the man’s blond hair. “It was fate,” he whispered.

“Dear Yuki…” his date whispered and reached down to kiss his collarbone.

He went very still.

How awkward! The first time he was finally addressed by his name and his date got it wrong! _I’ll correct him later,_ he decided, remembering to breathe. _It’s no big deal. I should’ve expected this anyway: I knew he was bad with names._

His date trailed kisses up to his neck and he reclined onto the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. One hand slid down over his chest and onwards to his stomach and still further…

“Vitaly!” he gasped.

“What?” His date pulled away and sat up with a laugh. “That’s not my name!”

They stared at each other in silence.

“But aren’t you…” he felt like an idiot as he said the words, “…Vitaly Mikiforov, the –”

“- world-famous figure skater?” his date supplied. “No, although I get that a lot.” He giggled. “You mean you thought I was –”

A part of their conversation earlier replayed in his head and he sat up sharply. “And you thought I was Yuki Satsuki, Japan’s ace!”

His date’s eyes went round with surprise. “You mean you’re not?”

“No. I’m…” He lowered his eyes, “I’m just plain Yuuri Katsuki. I uh… I play the piano,” he added, feeling like more of an explanation was needed. He raised his eyes and stared at the person sitting on the bed next to him. “If you’re not Vitaly Mikiforov, then who are you?”

“Victor Nikiforov, fashion designer.” He took Yuuri’s hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, leaving kudos and comments!  
> This was an interesting writing exercise that I actually really enjoyed. (Yeah, I think of some fics as writing exercises, shhh.) People complain about scenes with two characters with the same pronoun, but have you ever tried to write a fic with two characters who use the same pronoun and whose names you can’t use in the fic?
> 
> On a not-related note: I started a Tumblr blog to feature all the beautiful notebooks I collected over the years that I now use for my fics. If you’ve ever wondered what my collection of notebooks looks like, or if you just wanted to see a lot of pictures of nice notebooks, it’s [here](https://cute-notebook.tumblr.com).


End file.
